Deception
by The Mutant Jinx
Summary: The sequel to "Reluctance." Read to find out what it's about. Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have decided to write a sequel to "Reluctance." Feel lucky; this was not my original plan.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

**ENJOY!**

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Buttercup hungrily shoved another spoonful of cereal into her mouth the morning of the first day of school. She looked across the oval, mahogany kitchen table at Butch, who was studying the daily newspaper. Since what had happened in May, Butch visited the Untonium household frequently; breakfast was no exception. Today, his expression was very serious.

Buttercup quickly swallowed. "What's wrong, Butch?"

Butch's emerald eyes met Buttercup's jade-green ones. He began to read an excerpt from the mini-article. "'Last night, at exactly eleven o' clock p.m., Main Street, Market Street, and Central Boulevard were plowed through by an almost invisible force.'" He paused, skimming through to find the part that had disturbed him so. "Here it is....'Local authorities suspect that it may be superhuman activity.'"

"More supers?" Buttercup asked. Butch nodded. "And they're not exactly obeying the law....I thought we got rid of evil here for good when we destroyed Him back in May...." She reached across the table. "Can I see the paper?"

"Sure." Butch handed her the paper. Buttercup's eyes were immediately drawn to the full-color photo. Three streaks of light were tearing up the streets that had been listed. The lights were pink, blue, and green.

"Whoa." Buttercup's eyes widened. "I wonder what that means." There was more to the freakiness of the situation than the lights though. It had more to do with the fact that the streaks were the colors of her and her sisters and fellow Powerpuff Girls, Blossom and Bubbles.

"Me, too," Butch agreed. He glanced at the clock. "Hurry up and finish getting ready. We're going to be late for school."

* * *

The tardy bell rang just as Blossom and Brick sat at their desks in Calculus that morning. The teacher began calling role. Then he introduced himself as Mr. Morris.

When he was finished, Mr. Morris said, "Now class, we are going to have a new student this year. She's coming to us from...." He picked up a slip of paper from his desk. "...Los Angeles." Several people in the class whooped and whistled, excited to have a Hollywood girl as a classmate. "Settle down, please!" Mr. Morris ordered. Silence fell. "She should be here any minute," he continued.

Just then, the door opened and a girl entered the room. She was slightly taller than Blossom, who was only five-four. Her fiery red hair fell just past her shoulders and was cut in choppy layers, and her bangs fell unevenly to her wide eyes. Her hair was also loosely tied half-back and held in place by an old-looking, ragged, torn red ribbon. Her punk-rocker, all-pink-and-black ensemble accentuated her tanned complexion and hot-pink eyes. Blossom heard some boys wolf-whistle. "Hey," the girl said. "Sorry I'm late."

"That's all right," said Mr. Morris. He turned to the class and gestured to the new girl. "Class, this is the new student that I just told you about." He faced the new girl again. "Why don't you tell the class about yourself?"

The girl pursed her glossy lips. She obviously didn't like talking about herself, and Blossom found that to be suspicious. "My name is Rebecca Woodson," she said finally. "I'm a triplet. My sisters are Rachel and Rose. We just moved here from LA. We're seventeen years old." She turned to Mr. Morris. "Can I sit down now?"

"Yes, of course," said Mr. Morris. "There's an empty seat right over there." He pointed to the empty desk to Blossom's right. Rebecca sat down.

As Mr. Morris began his lecture, Blossom turned to Rebecca. "Hey," she said quietly. "I'm Blossom." She held out her hand for Rebecca to shake. Rebecca just stared at it. Blossom began to feel awkward, so she withdrew her hand. Then she noticed something--a long red scar that ran down the length of Rebecca's left cheek. "What happened to you?" Blossom whispered.

"It's none of your business," Rebecca snapped under her breath. Her eyes flashed with an angry, almost crazed, light and she turned to the front of the room.

Blossom frowned. Rebecca was definitely a questionable character, and she was going to find out what her problem was.

* * *

"Hello," said the kind-looking brown-haired woman after the bell had rung. "My name is Mrs. Wilson and I will be teaching AP Chemistry this year."

Bubbles smiled and exchanged relieved glances with Boomer. Unlike in most fictional works, the teacher, apparently, was not a total witch and would not try to ruin their lives.

"Now, we'll have a new student joining us shortly," said Mrs. Wilson, looking out the window in the door. "Oh--here she comes now!"

At that moment, Mrs. Wilson stepped away from the door and it opened. A girl stepped through the door. She was about an inch taller than Bubbles, and Bubbles was only five-three. Her hair was golden-blond and she wore it in two waist-length pigtails; they were fastened with blue barrets. Her outfit was _very _punk and the only colors were black and blue. She was tan and had blue eyes. Her eyes were lighter than Boomer's, but not quite as pale as Bubbles's. "Hey," she said.

Mrs. Wilson smiled. "Hello. Could you please tell the class your name and a little bit about yourself?"

"Sure," the girl shrugged. "My name's Rachel Woodson. I have two sisters named Rebecca and Rose. We just came here from Los Angeles. We're seventeen years old." Her gaze shifted from the class to some pictures on the back wall. Bubbles could tell she was a bit of an airhead.

"Alright, then," said Mrs. Wilson. "Now, Miss Woodson, there's an empty desk next to Miss Utonium there, see?"

Rachel nodded and took the seat to Bubbles's left. She waved at Bubbles and Bubbles waved back. Then Rachel peered around Bubbles to see Boomer, who was sitting to Bubbles's right. Rachel grinned and her eyes flashed, as if she were plotting something.

Bubbles could tell that she was not going to like this girl.

* * *

"Whassup?" the man at the front of the room said, smiling. Buttercup knew that she was going to like this guy. "My name's Mr. Torres, and I'll be teaching Literature--you know what? That's a mouthful. Let's just call it Lit in here. Now, let me call role...." He began listing the names.

"Okay," Mr. Torres said after he'd finished. "The principal told me that there was going to be a new kid in here, so I have to wait to start teaching class so that I can put her name on the roster."

The door opened abruptly and a girl stepped in. She was maybe an inch taller than Buttercup (who was a mere five-one). Her hair was coal-black and styled into untidy spikes on top of her head, and she wore two green diamond-shaped barrets in it. Her outfit screamed "punk." She wore a black leather, silver-studded choker, a black tank top with a green skull on it, a green-and-black plaid scooter, black fishnet stockings, and black combat boots. Buttercup could tell that she was not a person to be messed with. She was tan and her eyes were green. They were darker than Buttercups, but they weren't the same stunning emerald of Butch's eyes. "Yo," the girl said.

"Yo," Mr. Torres replied. "Now, be cool and tell the class your name and some facts about yourself."

"Whatever," the girl shrugged. "My name is Rose Woodson. My sisters are Rebecca and Rachel. We're triplets, if you couldn't tell by the alliteration in our names. We're from LA. We're seventeen." Throughout her whole little speech, Buttercup thought that the one word to describe her was "bored."

"Now, there's an empty seat next to Buttercup, is that right?" Buttercup nodded in affirmation.

Rose walked over to the seat and slumped in it. "Hey," Buttercup tried.

"Hi," Rose sighed. Her eyes wandered about the room until something caught her attention. She sat up and leaned forward to get a better look at whatever was to Buttercup's left. Buttercup followed her line of sight and scowled. Rose was staring at Butch. _Her Butch_.

_Calm down, _Buttercup told herself. _She's probably not interested._ But as she watched the almost evil smile stretch across Rose's face, Buttercup knew that she could not trust this girl.

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**There's Chapter One! YAY ME!!!**

**So, go ahead and tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm back with more. Not to mention that I'm tired and irritable. But nothing's more fun than an irritated girl with a temper. Except perhaps irritated grizzlies.**

**Disclaimer: DON'T OWN IT. Get that through your thick skulls.**

**Enjoy!**

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Buttercup sat down at the lunch table with Butch, Blossom, Brick, Bubbles, and Boomer. She noticed the new girls Rebecca, Rachel, and Rose all sitting together at a small table, talking amongst themselves.

"Those girls are really strange," Blossom murmured. "They don't want to speak to anyone, and Rebecca was just plain hostile to me this morning in Calculus."

"Yeah," Bubbles agreed. "I don't like the looks of Rachel. So far, she's always had the troublemaking look on her face, like she's planning something."

"I don't trust 'em," Buttercup said firmly. She took a swig of water and slammed the bottle onto her tray; a small crack appeared where the contact was made. _Maybe no one will notice that and I won't have to pay a fine, _she hoped.

Brick's brow furrowed, which meant he was thinking intently about something. "Something about them doesn't seem right," he mused. "But I can't deduce what it is. I can't get into their heads...." He was clearly frustrated with the hinderance of his special power to read minds. The one person who'd ever blocked him was Butch.

Blossom squeezed his hand tightly and obviously thought something that cheered him up.

Boomer nodded. "They aren't telling us the truth," he confirmed. "They're decieving us." His ability was that he could tell when he was being lied to.

Bubbles patted his hand comfortingly.

Butch scowled. His power was to sense a person's aura, which he had discovered at the age of ten. In this case, an aura was the nature of a person's intentions and their emotions, not the color of their souls. "I'm not picking up any vibes from them at all!" he complained angrily.

"None?" Buttercup asked, astonished.

"None," Butch replied. _That's weird, _Buttercup thought. _Usually Butch can feel someone's vibe without a problem...._

The six puzzled teenagers sat in silence until the bell rang.

* * *

Buttercup got home later than her sisters that day. The reason was simple--she'd decided to leisurely fly around town for a wee bit. It didn't really matter, anyway; there was never any homework on the first day of school.

She couldn't help but register the fact that for once, the Professor's little red car was not parked in the garage. Instead, it sat in the driveway. A little confused, she rushed up to the door and immediately went to the Professor's office. "Professor, why isn't your car in the garage?"

The Professor chuckled. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." Buttercup's tone was coated with agitation. The Professor rose from his computer chair and motioned for Buttercup to follow him. She obeyed and was even more surprised when he led her to the garage door. He opened it, and Buttercup couldn't believe her eyes.

Sitting on the smooth cement was a motorcycle. The Harley Davidson logo was unmistakable. The bike was a dark green and it shone brightly, even in the dim light of the garage. It was also one of the smallest bikes Buttercup had ever seen. _Which is good for me,_ she admitted in her head, _considering the fact that my height is...lacking._

Finally, Buttercup managed words. "Is...is that for _me_?" It seemed logical. After all, she was the only one of her sisters who had wanted to get her motorcycle license that summer. But it was still hard to believe.

"Yep." The Professor seemed pleased with himself. "Do you like it?"

"Uh, heck yeah!" She rushed over to it and gently stroked the black leather seat. She loved the scent that arose when she touched it. A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Did you get anything for Blossom and Bubbles?"

"They're out playing with their new toys." The Professor paused. "Think of it as a late birthday present. You know, since I didn't get you girls anything terribly nice this year."

"Thanks so much!" Buttercup was already on the seat, her hands wrapped around the handlebars. "Can I take it for a ride?"

"Go ahead," the Professor encouraged. He pointed at something on the ground next to the motorcycle. "Your stuff is in there."

Buttercup looked down and saw a large paper bag. She reached inside and pulled out a black leather jacket, biker gloves that matched it, and a dark-green helmet. She quickly donned the gear and revved the engine. It roared loudly and she did all she could to suppress her giggle. The Professor pressed the button on the wall and the garage door slowly rose. Buttercup waved and started out on the road.

Several times, she looked down to see the pavement rushing underneath her feet. The feeling was almost as cool as flying.

As she made her way down the road, she passed Main Street. She saw just how hard the constuction guys were having to work on repairs and she felt ill.

She rode around for a bit and headed back to her house. As she did so, movement caught her eye and she looked to the sky. A streak of green light was twisting and turning in the air. She knew it couldn't be Butch; the shade of green wasn't dark enough. She frowned. _Who is that?_ The mystery was really beginning to tick her off.

She pulled into the driveway. The garage door was open, so she could see two cars in the space. One was a cherry red convertible, and the Mercedes-Benz insignia was in plain sight on the back. The other was a deep blue Volkswagen Beetle convertible. She could guess that the Mercedes was Blossom's and that the Beetle belonged to Bubbles.

After parking her bike in the garage, she turned it off and headed inside. Firstly, she had to put her gear in her room. Secondly, she had to tell her sisters about the green flash of light.

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**And there's Chapter Two. You can check out the new vehicles on my profile.**

**Tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm finally back! YAY!!!**

**Disclaimer: Do I really have to say it?**

**Enjoy!!!**

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Buttercup closed the door behind her as the entered the house. Naturally, her sisters heard her. "BC!" they called out in unison. Buttercup could smell chicken enchiladas cooking in the oven; Blossom had already gotten started on supper.

"Hey," Buttercup mumbled. "I have to tell you something." The words were barely audible when she uttered them.

"What is it?" Bubbles asked.

Buttercup put her things on the floor and went into the kitchen. "I saw something. Just now," she said. She sat down at the table and stared at the wood, picking out the different patterns and shapes in the mahogany.

"What did you see?" Blossom inquired. She perched on the chair to Bubbles's right.

"A flash of green light in the sky." Buttercup looked up at her "older" sister.

"What do you mean?" Blossom seemed confused.

Buttercup motioned with her hands. "A green light flying in the sky. It was too light to be Butch. I'm not sure what it was." She looked down again. "Did you see that article in the newspaper this morning?" Both Blossom and Bubbles shook their heads. Buttercup grabbed the newspaper, which had been left on the table that morning. "Look. Those three streaks of light." Bubbles's eyes widened. Blossom's face became thoughtful, puzzled.

"What does that mean?" she mused.

"I don't know," Buttercup admitted. "But I don't think it's good."

* * *

Rose glared across the white room at Buttercup. An evil smile contorted her tanned face. "I've been training eleven years for this," she grinned.

"Rose....What are you doing?" Buttercup demanded. She couldn't help but be a little frightened.

Rose crossed the room and kicked Buttercup square in the gut. Buttercup's breath left her with a _whoosh_ and she flew across the room and hit a stainless steel table. "Rose!" she screeched. "What the hell?!"

Rose chuckled. "That's _Brute _to you." She punched Buttercup in the head and everything went black.

* * *

Buttercup awoke with a start. A thin sheen of sweat coated her brow. In a bout of paranoia, she glanced around her room--over the summer, the Professor had separated the girls into their own rooms. Her breathing was ragged and uneven.

Her green Razr rung abruptly. She quickly picked it up. "Hello?" She could hardly hear her own voice.

"BC, are you okay?" A wave of relief engulfed Buttercup when she heard the voice.

"Yeah, Butch, I'm fine. Just a bad dream."

Butch's tone was skeptical. "How bad?"

"Um...." Buttercup knew that she couldn't lie to him. After all, his counterpart senses told him that her mind had just been through a lot of trauma. "Really bad."

"I'll be right over." With that, he hung up.

True to his word, he was at the house within two minutes. He flew through the window, still wearing the clothes he'd worn to school, with ease and sat on Buttercup's bed. "What happened?" His gruff voice was quiet.

"It was Rose--the new girl," Buttercup recounted. "We were in this room. I don't know where. And we were fighting. And, um....She knocked me down. I started to protest, and she called herself Brute. Then I woke up." _No need to tell him I almost died._

Butch wrapped his arms around her. "Was that all?"

"Yeah."

He studied her face carefully. "Are you scared at all?"

"I don't know." She thought for a bit. "A little."

"Don't worry. I won't let her hurt you." Buttercup opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that she didn't need protecting, but Butch silenced her lips with his own. The kiss was slow, soft. Buttercup's heart went into overdrive. She clung to him, pressing herself against him, closing the small distance, trying to deepen the kiss. He pulled away, giving her a stern look. "Do you want me to stay here?"

Buttercup nodded. "Yes."

"Then get in bed." Buttercup obeyed, sliding under the jade green covers of the queen-sized bed. Butch sat beside her, one arm around her. Gradually, she began to feel sleepy. She managed to stay awake until after midnight before darkness pulled her into its depths.

* * *

Blossom furrowed her brow as she studied the picture in the newspaper. "I just don't get it," she muttered. "Why are the lights blue, pink, and green?" A light clicked in her head as she scrutinized the pink light. If made slightly darker, the light would be hot pink...matching Rebecca's eyes exactly.

Blossom gasped.

Her pink Sony Ericsson Walkman rang. She flipped it open. "Hello?" she asked breathlessly.

"Hey," Brick said on the other end. "What's wrong?"

"Those girls...," Blossom began. "Did you see the newspaper this morning? The article was on the front cover."

"Yeah. I stopped to look at the paper on the way to school this morning. Why?" Brick's voice was suspicious.

"The new girls....Their colors match the colors of the lights in the article."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Are you sure they match exactly?" Brick finally inquired. Blossom knew that Brick would try to get as much information from the new girls as possible of the colors really did match.

"Yes."

"Okay, then. We'll try to figure out as much as we can." His tone was certain, sure, confident. "See you tomorrow, then. I love you, Blossom."

Blossom couldn't help but smile. "I love you, too." She closed the phone and tried to sleep.

* * *

Bubbles couldn't help but get a creepy feeling at the thought of seeing Rachel again in the morning. She didn't know why, but the new girl seriously frightened her in a way that she'd never been frightened before.

Her blue LG enV2 rang. She knew who it was without looking at the number. She picked it up and hit the green talk button. "Hey."

"Hey, Bubs. What's the matter?" Boomer sounded truly concerned, and Bubbles knew that he was.

"Those new girls....They really scare me, Boom." Bubbles's voice cracked and a tremor shook her body.

"Don't worry, Bubs. They won't get near you," Boomer promised. "I swear."

Bubbles managed a small smile, even though Boomer couldn't see it. "Thanks."

"I'll see you tomorrow. I love you," Boomer told her.

"I love you, too," Bubbles said. "Bye." She hung up, comforted by Boomer's promise.

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**And that's Chapter Three! Tell me what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. I've had extreme writer's block and the only thing I've been able to think about is the next fic in this series. In fact, I've already started writing it. And no, I will not tell you what happens.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own PPG.**

**Enjoy!**

**

* * *

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Blossom was almost overly cautious when she entered the Calculus classroom the next morning. She knew that she was being ridiculous. It was probably just a coincidence that the colors matched.

She came close to shivering when she saw Rebecca sitting next to her desk. However, she continued on and made her way over. She sat down and turned to Rebecca. "Erm, hi," she said.

"Hey," said Rebecca, turning to Blossom. Blossom tried to focus on something other than the puckered, angry scar on her face.

Blossom turned around, not expecting anything else.

"Listen, I'm sorry I was so mean to you yesterday." Blossom looked at Rebecca in astonishment. "I'm just really touchy on the subject of my scars. Do you forgive me?"

"Oh. Yeah." With that, Blossom turned back around to face the teacher. She felt something hit her left arm and looked at Brick; he'd tossed a piece of paper at her. He gave her a confused look.

_Believe me, I have no idea what just happened, _Blossom thought.

Brick shrugged and they gave their attention to Mr. Morris.

* * *

When Bubbles entered Mrs. Wilson's class that morning, she shuddered in fear when she saw Rachel. Still, she sat at her desk next to Boomer and tried to ignore her.

"Am I bothering you?" Bubbles turned to see Rachel looking at her quizzically.

"No...," Bubbles said carefully.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said anyway. "Hey, maybe we can sit together at lunch, okay?"

"Okay." Bubbles was too shocked to say much else.

Someone poked her. "What the...?" Boomer whispered.

"I don't know," Bubbles replied. Then she continued to listen to Mrs. Wilson's lecture.

* * *

Buttercup gave a sigh of relief when she saw that Rose wasn't yet in Mr. Torres's room in the morning. She sat down next to Butch and took out the book they would be reading for the term--_Romeo and Juliet_.

Since Mr. Torres wasn't in the room yet, all the students were milling about and talking to each other. Butch scooted his chair over to Buttercup's desk.

"Hey, BC," he murmured. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Buttercup answered.

"How about now?" Butch's attention was elsewhere. Buttercup looked up to see what exactly he meant by that and swallowed hard. Coming through the door was Rose, every bit as intimidating as she had been yesterday.

"Now I'm a little afraid," Buttercup admitted.

"Don't be," Butch said. "I won't let her get near you."

Buttercup punched him lightly on the arm. "I don't really need your help, but thanks for the offer." Butch scooted back to his desk.

Rose sat down in her chair and turned to Buttercup. "Hey," she said. Her voice still had the bored tone. "Sorry if I bothered you at all yesterday. I really didn't mean to do that. If you want, we can meet after school."

"Um, thanks, but no thanks," was Buttercup's response. "My sisters and I have to do some patrol work."

"Patrol?" Even in the question, there was nothing that hinted interest.

If her dreams were right about these girls, Buttercup knew she had to come up with a convincing lie. "We're learning about how the police do their jobs," she bluffed. "We just want to see the forces of the law in action."

"'Forces of the law', huh?" Still toneless. "From what the newspapers say, the police here don't do a very good job." Rose smirked.

"They've not had to work in a while," Buttercup frowned. "Crime rates have really gone down here. We haven't had one bank robbery in almost three months." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Wow, three months," Rose said in mock surprise. She rolled her eyes.

"That's like a record here," Buttercup said defensively.

Rose gave a little chuckle. "You're funny, Utonium, I'll give you that. So do you want to hang out after your patrol business or what? Unless your boyfriend over there is against it." Her green-eyed gaze briefly shifted to Butch.

"Naw, Butch won't mind," Buttercup confirmed. "He knows I can take care of myself."

Rose nodded and turned around. Buttercup did the same. There was only one thought running through her head.

_What the heck?_

* * *

**There's Chapter Four. Sorry it's so much shorter than the others, but I've had extreme writer's block lately.**

**Review!**

**P.S. If you want to know what the third installment is about, you just have to ask in your review and I'll tell you in the next chapter. M'kay?**


	5. Important Author's Note: MUST READ!

**ATTENTION!!**

**This story is going on permanent hiatus. This means that I cannot finish it. My idea box is all out of whack for it.**

_**However**_**, I am putting it up for adoption, under the following regulations:**

**1. You can finish the story. (duh)**

**2. You MUST credit me.**

**3. You MUST keep the original title.**

**4. You MUST stick to plot and characterization.**

**5. You MUST make me proud.**

**You can post your adoption request in your review. The story goes to the first reviewer who wishes to adopt it. I will post the "winners" on my profile.**

**I am so terribly sorry.**

**Happy writing!**

—**Melori **


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